Tag Archives: molly

Bitterness and Forgiveness

I am often a bitter person. Being wronged by someone upsets me. It upsets me because many times, I feel like I really put my all into someone or something. To not be recognized for that or to be sort of backstabbed is hurtful. It makes me feel bitter and petty.

The last time Molly and I officially talked to each other, we got upset. I told her that I was tired of being jerked around and treated like I didn’t matter. She said she felt the same way and that she was tired of being manipulated.

That upset me a lot because I felt like I put in SO MUCH towards her. I tried so much and, essentially, deteriorated and wore myself away because of trying to take care of her. Because I was codependent. I didn’t think I was manipulative, I thought she was. It was annoying to hear that I was the one being manipulative.

I told her goodbye. We left it at that. We were already kind of sick of each other I think. Not on a big picture basis, but we just kept getting on each others nerves. I was constantly upset because I felt like she wasn’t trying to get help for her addiction. I felt that she wasn’t trying. She would be upset with me because I nagged her about doing a lot of things; i.e. going to therapy, calling for appointments, etc. I thought that I was being helpful. I should have just let her figure it out for herself. My mindset was that I didn’t want her to fuck everything up more than she already had.

Anyway, she went off to rehab again and we didn’t talk for more than two months. I was still very hurt, but I secretly wanted to know how she was doing. I would check her social media every day to see how she was. To see if she missed me.

I didn’t actually know when she was getting out of rehab, until I decided to check out her twitter one day and she had posted about it. It felt like my heart sank to my stomach. I was scared. I was scared because honestly, the relationship between us was tearing me apart and I would get so bad in terms of mental illness whenever she got back. I was scared I would give in, talk to her again, and fall into the codependent cycle again. But, god, I knew that deep in my heart, I missed her so much.

I had decided to cut her off. I did it because I knew I needed to. But I also did it because I was still angry, petty, and bitter.

She sent me a message on snapchat maybe a week after she got out. I had forgotten to block her on that and so that’s how she got through I guess. The message said, “I’m sorry for how I talked to you last time. I was out of line.”

But it wasn’t enough for me. I was SO angry. The anger just stemmed from me really putting myself out there and then feeling like I got slapped in the face for it. I never replied.

I was so angry that I never wanted to even talk about her. I got upset if someone tried to talk to me about her or asked me how she was doing.

She died two weeks later. I still feel so bad and I am filled with so much regret that I had built up so much bitterness and anger towards her. I really did want to be friends with her again.

I’m sad that I was so angry about what she had done that I never wanted to talk about her. All I want to do now is talk about her. Constantly, constantly, constantly.

I think that by ignoring her, I was being manipulative a bit. I think I am manipulative in small, subtle ways. I always want to be the victim and I always play myself out to be so.

But, I did eventually want to reconnect. I just needed time to process my anger.

It feels like that feeling when they describe in books or movies where someone regrets not talking to their parents or being mad at them, and then something happens to them, like they get in an accident or something and then they die. It feels like that sort of regret.

Since then, I have been trying really hard to dispel my bitterness quicker. I still do feel the initial anger and bitterness. But instead of feeding it and constantly thinking about it, letting it build up, I try to rationalize what is happening. I try to think, “is this worth getting so upset over?”

It usually isn’t.

It has also caused me some sort of trouble though.

The other day, I got upset with my mom. After I had gotten upset, she left to go run some errands. I started thinking, “shit, what if something happens to her and I never get to tell her I was sorry?” I didn’t want that to happen to me ever again. I wanted to call her and tell her I was sorry. But then I thought, “what if she answers while she’s driving, gets distracted by me, and she crashes?” I thought, hmm maybe I should text her. The thought that followed was, “what if I text her, she tries to look at the text while she’s driving, and she still dies?”

I’ve just been having a lot of intrusive thinking lately.

The point of this post is that I have been trying to not be so bitter. I know that what happened to Molly isn’t my fault. I try really hard to remind myself that. But I do feel a lot of regret towards how our relationship as lovers and as friends ended.

I really don’t want that to ever happen again.

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i think of her every day.

I think of Molly every day. Sometimes it is just a passing thought. Sometimes it is a thought that I’ll focus on more. Right now, I am continuously thinking about her and wanting so badly to have her here. I’m trying so hard to replay all of our shared memories together. Sometimes it is hard to remember and it makes me so sad.

In general, it is easier to remember the bad things that have happened to you in life more than the good ones.

I am remembering more of the bad parts than the good parts.

But I do think of the good parts. Sometimes it’ll be as simple as a car ride, other times it’ll be an event we both went to. Other times, it was just the calmness of being able to lie next to each other at night, hearing the ins and outs of our breath.

I am so angry with myself for having cut her off. I know I did it for a good reason. But sometimes, I also tend to view myself as the victim in ever situation. Was this one of those times?

I’m angry with myself because other people got to be there for her when I wasn’t. Other people were able to talk to her the day before she died and I didn’t. And it is literally my fault. It is all my own doing. I did this to myself.

She was such a good person. She was, besides her addiction. She had the most beautiful heart. Everyone saw it too. I’m so sad that all of these things happened to her. She didn’t deserve it.

Sometimes I think that it is me that wore her down. Sometimes I think that I was too much. I am so fucked up. I feel like that got to her. She had such a beautiful heart that she always wanted to make sure I was ok.

And people don’t get that.

She was there for me so much. She was literally the only person I had as a support system my entire year at university. I had no friends (in fact, I had enemies), my parents didn’t talk to me because they found out I was gay. It was bad. It felt like nobody cared about me. Nobody but her. And so yes, I did rely on her a lot.

I tried so hard to be there for her too when her addiction started getting bad. I honestly feel like I was the one that was there for her the most. Not to invalidate everyone else. But I tried so fucking hard. I wore myself so thin to the point where my friends would be asking me if i was ok and that it was noticeable that i wasn’t doing well.

but i didn’t care. and i stayed with her. and i wish even now that she was still here. we loved each other so much. when we broke up, neither one of us cried. there was nothing left to say. it wasn’t that we were sick of each other, but all of the emotions that could have been experienced had already happened. for me, i had already spent so long begging her and pleading her to get better. it was making empty threats of “i can’t stay with you if you’re going to keep doing this.” it was crying every single day on the phone with her because i wanted her to get better. and when i finally broke up with her and nothing was felt, i knew that wasn’t her fault. i know that it hurt her too. but i know that she wasn’t capable of feeling anything. she didn’t care. the addiction took over and she didn’t care about anything. not even herself.

it makes me so sad to think that. even though we didn’t shed tears i told her, “i know that we are soulmates. i just know it. theres no way we’re not. we are perfect for each other and the only thing that is getting in the way is your addiction. please get better, we can be friends, and we can even be back together again.” i loved her so fucking much. i wanted so badly for things to be ok again. i wanted her in my life so badly. even when things turned sour, i checked her twitter and her tumblr every single day, multiple times a day. to see if she would be talking about me or just to see what she was doing in her life. I’m so fucking pathetic.

i miss them so much still. i miss all the different ways they told me and showed me that they loved me. i miss having her as a best friend. i miss being silly with her and literally just being myself around her. i had never been able to do that before. she was the first person that was ever truly “myself” with. i wish so badly that she was still here. i miss her so much. i know that it must get old that i keep making posts about her and that they all say that i miss her.

but i feel so guilty that iw aunt there. i feel so stupid. all i can say is that i miss her. i miss her i miss her i miss her. i miss everything about her.

Goodbye, Molly

When I first learned that Molly passed away, my world turned upside down. I blamed myself so much for so many things. I blamed myself for her death. I blamed myself for not trying hard enough. I was looking at our entire relationship and friendship through rose-colored glasses.When she passed away, I thought that she was the best girlfriend ever and that she was incredibly supportive.

And she was. Initially. But the last year of our relationship was not good. The last year of our relationship, she had been in and out of rehabs. I kept draining myself and pushing myself beyond my limits just to try to help her.

So, yes, I loved her so incredibly much. But I had also started to let go because she wasn’t capable of loving me. And I wasn’t content loving someone that wasn’t able to love me back.
Initially, I blamed myself for cutting her off. I blamed myself for starting to let go of her. I blamed myself because I thought, what if she kept using and died because she was sad about me?

But I can’t be that vain. Molly was an addict. She would have used even if she wasn’t thinking of me. And even if she was sad about me, yes, that makes me feel sad and bad. But I was doing so badly and I wasn’t taking care of myself because I tried to take care of her. I was putting all of my energy into her. I would starve myself and cut myself to feel better. I know that cutting her out of my life was the best decision for me.
I will always cherish the memories we shared. But I can’t keep thinking that our relationship was beautiful and perfect. Because that’s not the way it ended up being. 

She was a beautiful person and had a beautiful heart. She loved me so well, when she was capable of it. But her addiction ruined so many things. Ultimately, it ruined us.
I can’t keep blaming myself for things that she did. I cannot blame myself for her death.

I wish I was still in a relationship where both of us were growing, learning, happy. With Molly (Jami changed her name to Molly), so many things go through my mind. We have not been together for a while. When I told my therapist that I had broken up with Molly, she basically jumped with joy. Because she knew that I was really draining myself for Molly. But I still ache inside. 
The last time I saw Molly was on Valentine’s Day. I drove two hours to go see her. The entire time, she didn’t really seem like she wanted to be with me. She said that she was tired.. But I was tired too. I drive for so long to go see her. I tried cheering her up in some ways, or to get her to be more enthusiastic. I did her makeup and her. Still, it seemed like she didn’t care that I was there. Frustrated, I told her that I was just going to go since it seemed like she didn’t want me there. She said ok. I asked her if she was going to walk me to my car, and she just let out a huge groan. As if it is a chore to be with me. I left angrily. The next day, she walked a mile to go buy inhalants.

I had told her two days later that I would be cutting her out of my life. 

That I needed to focus on myself.

Well, that hasn’t been going as planned. I was pulled back in (I let myself be pulled back in) and fell back into the cycle of worrying about her 24/7.

So that’s where I’m at. Having a sliver of hope for the future, and wanting her to be ok. 

But she’s in jail right now because she abused inhalants in public. And no one even told me until I asked. 

Side note: I found out today that not even an hour had passed from when I told Molly I was cutting her off that she made a tinder and an okcupid. So while I was being a fucking stupid idiot, crying and mourning over a failed relationship, she didn’t even care and was looking for someone new. 
So many of Molly’s friends will probably read this and think, “Monica is such a bitch. Why is she leading Molly on.” But I’m really not. They have no idea what it means to love someone with an addiction. An addiction so deadly. It is constantly trying to comfort someone who is high, even though they’re calling you names and even though they’re texting other people, telling them what a bad person you are. It is trying to calm them down when they’re suddenly angry at you, convinced you’re trying to kill them. It is being pulled into the, “yes, I promise I will try to get better.” And trying to believe it. Because you know that at one time, they could keep that promise (though you damn well know they aren’t able to now). It’s always having a sliver of hope that they will get better, even though everything seems so hopeless.
You could think I’m a bitch for saying that Molly isn’t trying as hard as she could. You could say I’m a bitch for saying that she isn’t making an attempt.

But, sure, she says she wants to go to rehab again. But rehab is not a bubble to protect you from the world. You only go to rehab to learn crucial skills. There is a big difference between going to rehab and using the skills you have learned, and going to rehab and expecting everything to be ok and fixed automatically when you get out. Which do you think has been going on?
At one time, Molly and I were hopelessly in love. Growing and basking in each other’s light. Pushing each other to be better people.
But it isn’t like that anymore. And it hurts to admit it. It feels more like one person is bearing the weight of the other, trying to help them get better, even when they have no interest in doing so. 
It is no ones fault but mine for draining myself for Molly. I am not obligated to do so. But because I care about her so much and because we had been together for so long, it felt like I needed to. In my heart, it felt like there was still a chance at a viable, healthy relationship.
But here we are. Here.

Last night

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Last night was a horrible fucking night. Up until now, I have been suppressing my feelings about my failed relationship. It felt like I was going to be ok. Until I started feeling sad. And then sadder. And pretty soon, I was crying uncontrollably. I cried for hours straight.

I started removing my ex from my life last night. I have found that, that is what helps me cope. I just remove them from my life completely. Reducing their carbon footprint in my life, never to be spoken of again. But it will be harder this time. I recognized this when I had just built up the guts to remove my ex from my Facebook page, and then I realized I was wearing one of her shirts. And then I still had small letters from her in my wallet. And then I realized my laptop was covered in stickers from her.

It was just a lot of small things and gestures that made me realize. Holy shit. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. And through the process of trying to get rid of everything, i just had a complete meltdown.

This still doesn’t feel real. It feels like she’s just at rehab again. Or we’re mad at each other. And it feels like I’ll wake up in the morning to a text message that says “good morning, baby.” Though, I haven’t received those kinds of text messages from her in months.

So many of my fondest memories include her. And so many small, seemingly meaningless things, remind me of her.

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It is really, really hard to swallow the fact that this is really happening. We are really broken up. Life’s a bitch sometimes.

A Failed Relationship

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Lets see, lets see, what could I say about my most recent failed relationship. There’s just so much to say. It’s hard to even find the words.

First off, I know I play the victim a lot but I really feel like I’m the only one that’s hurting. I’m not sure if that’s because they really don’t care that we broke up or because they’re busy getting high. Probably both. Even so, I don’t think I’m hurting as bad as I thought that I would. Sure, I get really sad sometimes. But that’s normal. I feel ok for the most part. Maybe that’s how it is for them too. I think we were both just tired of dealing with each other’s shit.

I’m a little (a lot) disappointed that this last relationship didn’t work out. I really thought and was hoping that it would. In the beginning, it all felt really dreamy and surreal, which you could contribute to the infatuation that we were both experiencing.

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We spent a lot of time together, and it felt like we missed each other a lot, even we had only been apart for an hour. It felt like we were two pieces of the same puzzle. We both liked the same movies, music, food, etc. We connected in random ways, that you wouldn’t have imagined connecting about. We had a lot of good experiences, and first-time experiences together. It felt like they were my best friend. They understood me really well. They understood when I would react to something badly and would quickly apologize after. They didn’t chastise me for that. I liked that. I liked that it felt like even if I I was the craziest person in the world, they could see the good in me.

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But even though everything felt so dreamy, I think that things really took a turn for the worst when my ex-partner started relapsing and then left for rehab for 7 months. It was 7 months of not seeing each other and barely being able to talk to each other. It was 7 months of hearing dates of when they would come home, and then having those dates being pushed back, over and over again, because of them constantly relapsing. I think we care for each other a lot. We were together for 1 year and 5 months. Apart for 7. Life moves on, even if you’re not in each other’s life. I think that’s when we started falling out of love. I think that there is a clear, definitive point in time where you could really look and see, well, they’re not as in love as they used to be.

It is hard to think that at some point, everything was good. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. I think if they hadn’t started abusing drugs the way they are now, we could possibly still be together. There wouldn’t have been as much lying, deceitfulness, or disappointment. That’s what I tell myself, at least.

Today, we are no longer together. We are not even friends. I go back and forth between deleting them and their friends from all of my social media accounts. But I then find myself feeling frantic, wanting to know what they’re doing, and if they’re doing better without me. I find myself wanting to change my number, and feeling the imaginative joy I could feel when they receive an automatic reply that my phone number is no longer in service. I feel very spiteful, but I also feel very hurt.

I feel very apathetic and indifferent towards the relationship we were having. The past few months are indifferent to me. They weren’t good. Most of the time, they were bad.

But the memories, oh the memories. I am in love with the memories, and the memories and feelings of what could have been. It feels disheartening to think that I thought I had a soulmate. We were so alike and it just really feels like a punch to the chest.

  
Presently, our relationship was stagnant. Nothing was happening and in fact, it felt like the love we had towards each other diminished by the second. They didn’t care about themselves a lot, and I couldn’t handle it. I tried really hard to have things get better. But nothing happened. They just didn’t care. Or they did care, but didn’t do a good job at all of showing it. The last time we hung out was three days ago, on Valentine’s Day. I had been contemplating leaving them. We weren’t together. But we certainly acted like it. I think the thing that was the final straw for me was that, that same day, they groaned when I wanted them to walk me out to their door. How much is that, a couple feet? I left angrily, but forgave them soon after. The next day, they walked at least a mile to the store to buy inhalants to get high with. I always heard that the addict will always love the drug more than they love any of their partners or family members. I tried so hard not to believe it. In that moment, it became very clear that yes, at this point, I am not the thing that they love most.

I am still mourning our failed relationship. We were together for quite a long time, but apart for nearly as long. I find myself feeling stupid sometimes for how hard I tried to save our relationship. Or how badly I wanted them to save themselves.

 

This has been something that will be really hard to get over. It will take me a long time before I could even think about being with someone else. Even now, here I am, pouring my heart out. I know they will read this, and perhaps they’ll feel just as indifferent as I do. But still heartbroken over what could have been. We could have been so much more.

 

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